Dexter's Dance
by KatsyKat
Summary: What happened immediately after the 7th Book Dexter's Final Cut in Dexter's mind and in his conversation with Astor as he waits for the police to arrive. SPOILERS Rating may be higher than needed but - hey - it's the Dexter series, so better safe than sorry.


Takes place AFTER the finale of the 7th Book Dexter's Final Cut by Jeff Lindsay. Can we say SPOILERS?!

I take no credit for the creation of Dexter and affiliated character and am only borrowing them for my own amusement… and hopefully the amusement of others. I am making no money off the publication of this short fanfiction.

**Dexter's Dance**

**By Suzi a.k.a. KatsyKat**

As I sat with Astor, waiting for the police to show up I began to realize how wrong it was that me, Devastatingly Devious Dexter, was sitting and hypothetically waiting for the firing squad to line up after Anderson pointed the finger at me for four murders that I did not even commit.

I was appalled that when I was jailed I would be known as a sloppy, copycat, girlfriend and wife killer. And I'm sure they'd try to get me for child raping too I thought sardonically, looking at Astors red speckled negligee.

Astor and I sat side by side and I suddenly noticed that one of us had grabbed the others hand and we were currently holding on tightly as if this small line of comfort would pull us through the upcoming trials, like a tugboat pulling a ship through rough and narrow waters.

Suddenly a rush of useless and previously unimportant things ran through my mind at the same time.

It was getting late in the afternoon. Who would pick up Cody from school while I was here answering the questions of the police? Who would explain Rita's death to him and understand his lack of reaction? Who would help Cody control his self proclaimed 'Shadow Guy' so it didn't overrun him or get him caught?

What would happen to Astor if they actually believed that she was the one who stabbed Robert? Who would coach her through the series of psychological examinations they were sure to subject her to in order to help her overcome the ordeal? Who would help her act normal and tell her what to say?

Who would tuck Lily Anne into bed after they had arrested me for murder? Who would explain what happened to her parents?

Would Deborah's anger at me extend to my children causing her to turn their back on them?

Only then did it occur to me.

I was worried.

More worried about the children than myself even.

That was perplexing. Dexter was always first on his priority list.

Is this what they call a parents unconditional love?

I didn't think so.

I suppose I've always assumed that jail is where I'd end up; locked up with the other demon carrying psychos. After all, a monster, no matter how righteous or how strictly honorable a code one follows… is still a monster. At the end of the day, it was safer for the world if I was locked up… wasn't it?

More than with love, I believe I was finally seeing things, without the eclipse that was Jackie, and remembering that I had so much more to complete with Cody and Astors training. I had so many things I needed to show innocent Lily Anne. And who would care for them, especially now that Rita was gone?

Who would protect Lily Anne from the people that Dashing Daddy Dexter took out of this world? And who would protect Dexter's Disguise if they took away the children when I had already lost Rita?

In a split second, just as my ears detected the faintest of sirens that I was sure were headed our way, everything clicked into place and I realized I needed to come out of this. Not just for myself but for the world I made a better place and for the children who so desperately needed my training.

"Astor, listen to me carefully." I said, suddenly breaking the silence.

Her eyes, previously downcast as she ran her fingers over the carpet in the living room where we sat, looked up at mine. The raptness of her expression showed that she recognized the authority in my voice. Clutching to it like a raft, her eyes never left mine.

"When the police get here, I need to you tell them the truth."

Confusion spread across her face. "But you said that they wouldn't believe that that Asshole…"

"And also you can NOT call him that. Don't use any bad words. You need to seem as young and innocent as possible if you want to get out of this and go home instead of a detention center for young murderers." I pushed, as her eyes widened, wanting to impress the importance of this performance on her. "Because that's where they'll send you if you act like your usual self."

It's also probably where they'll send you if I go to jail, which is more likely… I didn't form the last thought out loud because I didn't want her to realize how precarious this entire situation was with only an 11 year olds testimony that she, not the Devious Dexter, killed the famous actor who was a killer in addition to being a pedophile.

Perhaps it was the threat of the detention center. Maybe it was the realization that Rita was gone, or that her previously dull life with her own room was threatened, but her chin trembled just a little at my harsh words. I hurried through the rest of my instructions.

"Tell them you felt, loved. Tell them he cherished you and made you feel special that he said he was going to make you a star."

"He said he was." She interrupted me, pouting, her anger and just the right amount of petulance showing through.

"Exactly." I pounced on that. It was perfect. "Tell them that. Be honest about what happened. Tell them that he was a liar. Tell him about the conversation he and I had about using you as a hostage to escape. Tell them he threatened to kill me and your mom. Tell them that you loved him but you didn't want him to hurt your mom and you got scared he was going to hurt me so you stabbed him."

"Okay… but I still don't see how…" She started to say with attitude in her voice. This would not do: her callous attitude and reaction about both killing someone and losing her mom. The police would pick up on it right away and she would be exposed. So I interrupted her again.

"You said you wanted to be an actress, right?" I asked her, interrupting again as I could hear the sirens increasing in sound.

"Yea." She agreed, frowning.

"Here is your first role. Remember when your mom made you watch that old movie "My Girl"?" I asked.

She made a face. "Yea, it was horrible. She got to actually see her friends dead body at the end and instead of looking at it she just cried and screamed all over the place."

"Exactly." I said, relived she had focused immediately on the right part. "That's how normal people react. I need you to cry and be upset that your mom is dead."

Her eyes got wide and the sirens sounded like they were in the neighborhood. Not much time left I deduced as I waited for Astors reply.

"But Dexter…" Her eyes were wide with fear. "I can't cry like that. I really can't. I've tried to make myself cry but it's *too* hard."

I knew Astor was right. She was a poor actor at best.

The sirens were getting louder. We were running out of time.

My Passenger suggested a solution but I hesitated, it was way too harsh and went against everything I'd been raised to believe.

_Harsher than going to jail? The dark voice mocked me and made up my mind._

"Do you trust me?" I said out loud suddenly.

"Well… yea but…" Astor replied with a skeptical expression.

"Do – you – TRUST – me?" I asked again, the darker voice of my Passenger asserting itself.

"Yes." She replied immediately, her earlier skepticism gone.

"Then I am going to hurt you and make you cry. When it stops hurting you can act normal because they'll blame it on shock. Ok?"

Her eyes widened, but she didn't back away. I had never hit or otherwise hurt the children, but she nodded quickly as if not trusting her voice.

I grabbed her arm and suddenly twisted it and her wrist up behind her exerting only a little force. The joints would hurt badly from the strain but they shouldn't bruise. A sick feeling came over me when I saw her wince and I almost dropped her arm in alarm.

But I continued relentlessly increasing the pressure slowly. As I heard a car pull up and I saw the tears were flowing freely. But she was very brave. My Passanger nodded approval as Astor bit her lip and didn't cry out. That was especially good because as I released her and pulled her to my chest I heard the front door burst open.

"It's okay to cry now, just remember you're scared and upset about losing your mom."

And, to her everlasting credit, Astor began to wail into my chest, squeezing me with the strength I never would have guessed in her small frame as the first officers rushed onto the scene. I turned to them with what I hoped was just the right amount of sadness and relief and waited for the questions to start so Dexter could do his Dance.

A/N:So… I haven't really felt the muse stir in quite some time. So imagine my surprise when following the seventh of Jeff Lindsay's Dexter Books, "Dexter's Final Cut" it began to thrash about relentlessly. First of all, no disrespect, but Mr. Lindsay gets many MANY negative thoughts from me on the ending of this book. While I am accustomed to his last minute slightly rushed but always epic ending scenes (the highlight of every book in the series) I was very disappointed in the cliffhanging nature of this book. To me, showing Dexter, who's very nature is to survive and to do so in the cleanest way possible, simply sitting down to "face the music" as he states in the last page is a ridiculous notion. I can only excuse this by assuming Mr. Lindsay wanted to show him in some kind of shock that he is going through having lost both Jackie and Rita to the same, blundering idiot fledgling killer. So, I simply had to give Dexter some kind of plan as we waits for the police to show up. One last throw, pebble that it may be, to try to keep what is his and not be framed for murders that were actually not of his doing. So… I hope you enjoyed. I know it doesn't tell us what will happen, but I feel much better having gotten this out on paper.


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